"altruist" poems
I chose ice-cream
Over yogurt;
Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate.
Each equally without prejudice
Attracted.
The fifteen year old server
Was kinda short;
The vanilla tub had about three scoops
Remaining,
Stacked hidden like frozen snow-balls
As in war games.
His task would have been daunting
And embarassing,
And I, a humanitarian
From higher education,
An altruist from St. Joseph's,
Could not allow it.
The chocolate tub
Was yet covered,
And the sobbing child's cries
Were hardening in my ears
As Dad tried to allay
His chocolate tears,
Applying the five second rule.
I am an empath
By nature and poetry,
So, turning from chocolate,
Left me strawberrry.
Triple scoop too.
I believe
You thought through
Your choices
Like flavors of ice-cream.
Being imaginative,
I do.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Hedons liken to sound.
The hungry cadences wielding that satisfying resolution.
The resolution we seek in between memories
and the spirit of the staircase.
Are we intricate bodies
or are we intricate worlds,
full of all you have ever known.
What is that sound?
I may be defined by my actions
but my actions are defined entanglement.
Some soft note
huddled under a hard and heavy chord.
Then victory comes in the 42nd measure
and is defeated in the next.
All of us can make noise
but nobody can be heard.
Even the altruist is selfish to an ideal,
I want then only to make music.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
This majestic creature glides
As she takes to the skies.
Her mind works with an eagle’s ability,
While her heart is crafted with a sparrow’s humility.
She flies not with an eagle’s pride
For her hopes are not to own the sky;
But to share it with her accompaniers
Flying never in front but alongside her peers.
She sings not with a sparrow’s naivety:
Each day unbothered and indifferently,
For the purpose of this altruist’s life
Is to serve others through sacrifice.
Although she is fearless in her flight,
She does not soar far out of sight.
She stays close to the ground, not in fear of the skies,
But in awe of the water above which she flies.
And as she departs beyond the river bend,
Her wings command the day to end.
This Blue Crane floats away effortlessly
As the sun takes a bow into the depths of the sea.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:27 AM UTC
When my body turns to dust,
I want the earth to know it.
My knees will filter sunlight,
sparkling shards of broken glass
to feed the turned, fallen leaves.
From my hands will rise a steam,
lost from ghosts of wilted dahlias
and pulling beads from snail shells.
Softening footsteps in numbing silence,
my scalp will take root in boulders:
a lichen stretched anew.
The crunch of my nails will lilt,
a filling sound which bleeds the heart.
My heart, itself, a rotten composition
(spoiled as tender and cloying fruits)
will slip through Her fingers,
drench Her purpose in richness,
and swallow my searing in depth.
My skin, taken first as appetizer,
breeds microcosms of tiny dancers
and will never forget that feeling.
Collapsed and empty, one lung and the other
will cease to feed themselves,
twisting from entrepreneur to altruist.
Other sundry organs, bones, hair and ligaments:
a donation of retribution,
payment for what was stolen,
recompense for an unforgivable abuse.
It is all I have, and it will be everything.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
LOVE
resonates
perpetuates
proliferates
aura embodies
reign cloud shines
I'll offer you my hand
A humbling breeze
Earthquakes shake the land
expand beneath the sand
waves rolling, sunshine
raw pure and unclear
dissolving fear
pouring light
fruiting delight
tears of nectar
sweet perfection
ormus affection
candlelight reflection sprouting seeds of our intention
laughter infection- spreading heading towards my heart
tickles as it parts ----- fleeting dogma counterparts
I believe in the moment. what it shows to me
mama earth writing poems to me, streams trees thrones to me
barefeet crush dry leaves, as fear flees these trees
teach so lovingly----- so humbling
Love Vibrations
love lifts altruist
light guides
inspired minds
so shine
restruct time
align oscillating vibes
fractal benign
loveshine
/
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
Oh Kronos, you left me behind,
Speeding down the track to Oblivion
The seconds, the minutes, the hours fly by
And yet your hands pull further from mine
Dear Time, leaving me to wander,
What depths are there left to ponder?
Leviathan will consume us all
While you wait at the end with the glaring gall.
Speak to me through the threads dear tourist,
Lend me a sign, a clue, a hint you friend and altruist.
I cannot be left to drift in the futile battles already lost
My heart and soul are the final tokens to pay the dear cost.
You would leave your Rhea to suffer her children’s slaughter?
Eating the small things she holds dear, only to satisfy your lustful fear?
Time, hand me no more. Lead me elsewhere than your gut.
I am not to be fodder to the fireless man waiting at the end of time.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC
It's better I give
While life's within;
The situation's
Sin-win-win-sin.
I must appear as an altruist,
But scratch, you'll find a hedonist.
And so I give more than receive,
The pleasure's in giving,
I'm not deceived.
Been one all along;
It feels right to be wrong.
Admittedly so.
I'm a hedonist.
I amass such joy
Reaping the benefits.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 7:54 PM UTC
not a papist or ****** or shapist
but enjoying a curve
not an escapist
lacking the nerve
not a florist, tourist or activist
unless its summer time
and certainly not an alchemist
no water into wine
a lovely smiley altruist or artistically quite loud
but sadly failed when drawing
kindness from the crowd
mist
gist
fist
hoping to desist in being a monarchist
and always very eager on not being dogmatist
but still I really strongly emphatically insist
that faddist, fauvist fashion
is only a passing passion
for the narcissists among us
realist
publicist
terrorist
humbly suggesting that zeitgeist
is an ist
but failing to enjoy the line
being a fatalist
not a facist, xylophonist or anything with isms
just a bad contortionist
with creeping rheumatism
determining the future through a timely
cruel twist
whilst realising ultimately
I’m just
a sad typist
Aug 19, 2011
Aug 19, 2011 at 7:10 AM UTC
Carefree drizzles softly sings as bliss and ease taken wing.
Gaze upon the auric blooms while sweet melodies, mellowing.
Alleviate our friend's crises, their debts, paid in purple silvers.
Eliminate those pesky mortal threats, lest blood spills in liters.
Toward our star, astride the verde, vibrant beauteous noise.
Abating virtues, without the merde, cometh Byronic poise.
A smoken distance, famished flames, fiery tongues yearning.
A fearful master, ***** dames, merry songs flowing.
Parallel meridians lovingly caress floating wisps of white.
Quarreling impulses embracing soaring orbs of light.
Bright.
See... sigh.
Lavender shades cushion our convents of misty mysteries.
Serene panacea tease me upon sapience; argent histories.
Ebullient crush casting glaring lights into the hostile wind.
Beneath dusky whirlwinds come hazel sparks of sand.
Glory guilty of detested crimes, anon trembling tears.
Inspiration follow thy limelight; guidance of young seers.
A canvas of blue, emotions ablaze through one hundred days.
Amber pillars burdened with wishful horizons... come what may.
Never believe our luxurious dreams under the rainy rainbow.
Drowning in sunshine, tis the era to escape the clutches of limbo.
Cease our anthropocentrics to soar on frozen blooms tonight.
Taste vermillion pain, lest we be gluttons, spying; useless insight.
Mirrors refracting broken perfection, for ever-clear prisms.
Commit altruist favors for all our mistaken rhythms.
Behold the mind, mightier than a sword, bitter tool of priests.
Crusading zen, grander than any reward, come join the feast. <3
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
sitting here in the cusp
of a greedy world
where each seeks something
only for own good,
i would rather have
a bouquet of goodies for
me and my folks
particularly as the new year begins,
i look back at the cosmic awareness
of knowledge seeking
ancient brahmins,
and get amazed at
the altruist spirit and
sense of renunciation, they
made a common daily practice,
that rang loud in chants
during elaborate rituals
of fire sacrifice
in ancient times.
one by one, putting an enormous collection of
offerings ; butter,variety
of sacred wood, flowers,herbs and grains
in to flames, with the accompaniment of
chants of benediction and good thoughts,
in unison, each one asserted in chaste Sanskrit:
"This is not for me"
"idem na mama"
with each offering.
the Gods could have any reason,
not to accept those offerings,
given away with purest of intensions,
that changed the ionic configuration
of the atmosphere, more beneficial to humans
by changing air, land and water, pure
and full of life force.
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 1:03 PM UTC
(by Bruce Bawer)
In Sønderberg the other day
A teenage girl used pepper spray
To rout a randy “refugee”
From somewhere far across the sea
Who threw down and molested her.
The cops arrested her.
As part of a jihadist plot,
A brute assailant took a shot
At a fine Copenhagen man
Who'd deprecated the Quran.
When the brave soul who'd nearly died
Then publicly identified
The **** who'd tried to **** him, he
Was charged with grave delinquency:
Breaching privacy.
In Mölndal, a Somali teen
Plunged a long blade into the spleen
Of a young Swedish altruist
Who'd yearned to do one thing: assist.
The land's top cop went on TV
And trumpeted his sympathy.
For the poor girl who'd lost her life?
No. For the kid with the knife.
At one time it was understood
That a devotion to the good
Didn't mean one should be blind
To evil, or pretend to find
Some virtue in sheer villainy.
To see what isn't there to see
Is not a sign of rectitude.
To point out evil isn't rude;
To fight it is good.
You can't, however hard you try,
Mistake for a speck in the eye
A loaded *** in the hands
Of some rough beast from foreign sands
Intent on taking out a child.
You'll win no points for being mild
To members of a desert creed
That seeks to make the heathen bleed
And preaches that the kind and meek
Are contemptibly weak.
Christ said to turn the other cheek.
But what if it's not just your cheek?
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
Muscles strain with the effort, each one
fit to burst from this skin in protest of the
things I do for you.
When I saw you falling by I couldn’t
help but to throw out my arm for you
to grab. I will anchor you to safety.
Sometimes I think that this act,
rescuing you, is all I know.
A toast!
To those buildings from our lives
which at times meant so much,
and how we saw them torn down.
To those people, who we loved and
hated and ignored and couldn’t be
away from, and to how we stood
by to see them torn apart.
A toast to the rips and tears.
When I’m not around, and this dark world
looms like death about your aspect,
how do you go on?
Do you have a bevy of pretenders,
waiting in the wings to assume the mantle
of hero for you, at your beck and call?
I think not.
No, the state that I always find you in.
Teetering on oblivion. Breathing in your
own acrid impending ruin.
A toast!
To the victimless crimes that always
find themselves a victim.
To the altruist with ulterior motives.
To the new car with seven hundred miles on it.
A toast to the rut I find you in.
How could I do anything other than rebuild you?
I sit and cobble you from the heart break
you discovered on your path to forget or forgo.
With delicate hands and loose calculations
I will rend you into a form that resembles
yourself, and when I am done I will
walk away.
You have never once thanked me.
A toast!
To the victimless victim of
self inflicted crime.
To those torn down and made whole
again.
To buildings wrecked and replaced.
To the occasional altruist with
understandable ulterior motives.
May 28, 2011
May 28, 2011 at 6:27 PM UTC
A vast Land, dotted with thoughts and Ideas,
Scripted in Hand, Penned with Altruist Zeal.
Paragraphs Written in Hills, and in Valleys,
Taking a Path through Drama and Passion.
Leading you through Dark City Alleys...
To Scenes of Crime and Dark Actions,
Cowered in Fear, Shadows Causing Reactions.
You feel your Skin Crawl at the Draw of a Knife,
Shocked at the Sight of a Passing Life.
You Cling to the Arms of the One you Love,
The Feelings between You from Heaven above.
The Pleasure you feel at the Touch of your Lips,
As the Wind ***** the Sails of a Yar and sleek Ship.
True love Flares up at the setting sun,
And Finally the Poems End has Come.....JMF 1/12/15
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
What does it mean to be enough?
To have the right stuff?
To look good and feel tough?
Am I weak or am I strong?
Does anyone long to be with me?
Stick with me?
What's wrong with me?
Who do I belong with then?
Do I belong with them?
Are they the right ones for me?
When do I get to write my story?
Can I right my wrongs?
Do I have to write some songs?
Belt out at the top of my lungs?
Are my skills dung, like doo doo?
Am I just **** at what I do?
Is it true what they say?
Am I always blue or am I yellow?
Are we all racist or just prejudice?
Can I be a soldier and a pacifist?
Can I be selfish and an altruist?
Is there a list of things I can't be?
Well, I can tell you,
There's a lot that you can't see.
Some days, it's hard to breathe;
I don't wanna eat,
I just wanna grind my teeth;
I wanna find some meaning;
Hold a meeting with friends...
Oh, wait... what friends?
Am I in the right section?
Do I have enough connections?
Am I enough?
Enough with the questions.
Dec 6, 2019
Dec 6, 2019 at 8:17 AM UTC
No one ever gave the luxury that his greedy heart desired.
And so he chose to become the creature of fire.
The flames which they whispered
To be destructive and vicious.
His eyes mirrored the depths of hell
That was once angelic and precious.
His heart has been corrupted and withered.
Now his lips spoke evil for any man to do harm.
I knew him when he was young
He was a noble
But now the doubtful,
The altruist and witty since youth
Turns out to be someone who will deny the truth.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 1:57 AM UTC
“And this drab spirit craving in sad eagerness,
Many basilisk twist and snarl afore my feet,
But every hour I am saved from that eternity,
Something silent is surely more deserving,
Far on the ringing plains of windy ancient Troy,
I am a part of all that I have met all once before,
Yet all is a reality in mind forever and ever,
To rust spotted to always shine in use!
Altruist of courage where fore art thou,
Though the eupnea to my trivial life,
Endeared face of dawn from twilight glows yet,
I shall follow the sinking star for knowledge,
I don't know if time is passing or not,
Does it come together or as druthers?
Or is my future to be piled all at once,
Seek I still the truth divine in hopes to gain,
Take my hand and share divinity with me,
Abolition me thoroughly from my iniquity,
Surely it takes a lifetime to get over such pain,
I never thought of an unhappy ending to procure,
I spent an entire life stuck in the labyrinth,
Thinking about how I will escape it and say,
Imagining what the future may hold for me,
How it will be on that formidably glorious day,
By Andrew Guzaldo 09/26/2018 ©
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
Flesh of a lonely man
Needs make up
Wreaths on this list coming
Crossing out and ticking the boxes
We’re still holding the dust of souls
And ashen glances look like desultory glances
****** on the nursed streets
The streetlit howling winds can fly out of educated lives
We are only left educated minds changing their ways and stealing cigarettes
Feigining for the father figure
I hope we have had a good time
The night’s brighter with the vivid growth of the undernelly
Knell bells tolling, killing the bleeding
Sojourn the dress, and adjourn th court
Red crimson tresses sense the mallet of sentences marking forever
Those worst worshipping travelers of trafficking
Altruist, my forefathers are looking at us like it’s now or never
The darkeness is inevitable, but, the tunnel runs out with indomitable spirit stealing glances from the Gods of religions so decrepit
I had my luck in my pocket from these corrupt politicians, and reiterated that I’d run and reign and then run
Like the apoplectic season of the monsoons, teaming up either way
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
Open to work, all seasons
Tirelessly tilling the soil
Slimy earthworm
Jun 28, 2022
Jun 28, 2022 at 11:28 AM UTC
You complete me
So many people say this
like their lover is the key
to crossing off the last thing on their list
*I say ********
You must be your best
and have a glow that truly emits
before you meet and posses your very own altruist
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
You shine a light,
On a cold and lascivious world.
You are the altruist,
On the coldest of winters.
You are the begetter,
Of the greatest scheme of all.
To steal my heart.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
I've always dreamt of Love. The one Love that makes you flush from the inside. The one real Love that does not hurt you, a Love you trust, you fear and cannot live without.
I've loved one man in my life. I'm a simple girl, I don't ask for much, I''m no drama, I give all my trust when i tell you I love you. And that is all. I'm all in. Simply be simple. Yet, I think I love complicated men. A least, he was. Dark, twisted, selfish, self-centred, passionate, yet he loved me. I never doubted that.
I'm an altruist, full of peace and understanding. I don't hate anybody, I dedicated my life to others. I live to change the world, make it a better place. He lives to make his world at his image. And I love him.
I don't judge. I try to be the best version of myself, the person I wish I'd meet in times of need. I'm a nurse. I studied to help others. I don't believe in the economy or our system. We failed to recognised its errors and bugs. I want fix them, or a least be the start of that change. He wanted me to live for me, but mainly to live for him. I did, for a while. Because I'm trustworthy, and I'd do anything for the ones I love. And he was number one. I think he still is.
I told my bestfriend when she got dumped, that the heart always hurts. And the Love always stays. We learn to live with it. The one Love that hurts you, will help you find the next that won't. Yet, one Love won't take the other's place in your heart. Love marks you.
So I try. To give Love, unconditional Love, to everybody I meet. Because we are missing some. And some may not even be enough.
I also want to be loved. I thought he would be my Love. The one that helps you get up and breath. The Love that gives you wings and helps you fly free. I'm not disappointed that he is not. I'm proud I knew I needed to love myself and put that Love first. I lost myself in him for a while, and while I found myself back again, he lost himself in return. So I left. I broke his heart and mine. I left the man I love, the man I will always love, the love of my life.
I hope he's fine. That he found Love in his life, the one only yourself can give you: self love, self respect, trust. And maybe, in a while, I'll see him trust someone for the first time, and it will be the Love of his life.
In the meantime, I'll try to make a difference, to open the eyes of the unloved. I'll try my best to Love. And I hope, I'll have someone to give me back what I gave to the world.
... So, ... I'm not as altruistic as I thought I was.
Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 6:53 PM UTC
oh
hello
there
here
I
am
nothing
but
a
man
not
myself
i
have
changed
for
the
interlinking
gears
of
communication
pried
open
like
a
pumpkin
altruist
the
cross
to
establish
modern
life
you
have
it,
my
brain
will
you
take
my
heart
i
will
not
move
for
you
grab
me
motionless
objective
goodbye
now
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
Savage lands bare all life, depraved -Progress reaped from primal battles waged
Be vandal, than gentle dweller,
Counted by more viscious prey;
Hardpressed to walk
Eternally amongst the grave.
To have grown to know my ailments
and remain unnervingly Divine
One would surmise:
This Woman must have
always courted pain.
I sense within my core
The fiercest of hearts in shackles -
Felled by a love's entrancing beauty
As would burn bright a spreading flame.
She walks, though implicit of my crimes!
With pressed lips,
Cheating mine of innocence.
The culprit, cradled by the night, remains;
With choice of stolen hearts and minds.
The cost to free a fire-tempered soul
And find her love an altruist un-chained.
To have valued devotion
and thus I write Divine
She embraced the beast
Within this ruthless man.
A Moonlit piano sings of life's great works.
A starlit night framed for adoration.
Like your ever vindicating love,
Not the least of Guilty men dare question.
Between starved lines of manifested fears,
Might I find a new Lenoire in waiting.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 3:27 AM UTC
I was a morning daylight,
Full of joy and happiness,
Not in reality but,
In the reel of life.
I was a thundering cloud,
Always roar and roar,
Not because I was strong,
Because I was afraid.
I was complaining,
All day all night,
Not to the living puppets,
But, to the almighty.
I was tired, sick of fake smiles,
And telling people all the lies,
Not because I can't stand more,
Because I wanted to be real.
I was crying inside,
And hiding all the pain,
Not because I was strong,
Because I meant to be.
I was altruist,
And trust people easily,
None, broke my trust,
But, my friends did.
NOW
I am like the ocean tides,
Dancing in my own rhythm,
Not to be wander alone,
But, to be wise.
I am an open book,
Like one in the library,
Not for everyone,
But, who ask for it.
I am a dreamer,
And my dreams unrealistic,
Not that they can't be true,
But, they just wouldn't.
I am a listener,
waiting for someone,
Not to listen their story,
But, to tell mine.
I am a common man,
A man with a story,
Not to tell everyone,
But, who deserve it.
Lazy_winds
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 10:09 AM UTC